In The Fire
by Hisana Kuchiki
Summary: Perhaps, had she looked at his face closely, things would have been different... Possible Sweenett/Toddett Character death. Reviews will be appreciated.
1. Chapter 1

**In The Fire**

Chapter One: Endings and Beginnings

* * *

"'Don't I know you,' she said…" Sweeney muttered, in disbelief. He brushed her flaxen hair out of the way, and studied her face in the fire. Sweeney held his wife, now limp and lifeless in his arms. "You lied to me…" He whispered to Mrs. Lovett, eyes still glued to his love.

"No, not lied at all…" She said, backing away slowly, "no, I never lied."

"Lucy…" He said, in despair.

"Said she took the poison, she did, never said that she died!" The baker said fearfully. She really didn't, she was just protecting him! Protecting him from all the pain, or at least from the worst of it. "Poor thing! She lived, but it left her weak in the head, all she did for months was just lie there in bed, should've been in hospital, wound up in bedlam instead, poor thing!"

"Oh, my god…."

"Better you should think she was dead, yes I lied, 'cause I _love_ you… I'd be twice the wife she was, I love you… could a thing like that love you… like... me?" She panicked, fearing the hate she would she in Sweeney's eyes.

"Mrs. Lovett, you're a bloody wonder; imminently practical, and yet appropriate as always," Sweeney sang, with a grin. "As you've said _repeatedly_, there's little point in dwelling on the past!" He slowly paced towards the woman.

"Do you mean it?" Nellie said in shock.

"Now come here, my love…" Sweeney motioned with his hands.

"Everything I did, I swear, thought it was only for the best…"

"Not a thing to fear, my love…" He crept closer to her.

"Believe me, can we, still be… married?" She asked, closing her eyes in relief.

"What's dead is dead…" He grabbed her hand.

She was whisked away by Sweeney, suddenly dancing.

"The history of the world, my pet…"

"Oh, Mr. Todd, oh, Mr. Todd, leave it to me…" She said, eyes still closed, thinking of the sea, her and Mr. T… married.

"Is learn forgiveness and try to forget…" Sweeney led her slowly to the open fire.

"By the sea Mr. Todd, we'll be comfy cozy, by the sea Mr. Todd, where there's no one nosy!" She told him, again, hoping they would be married.

"But life is for the alive, my dear, so let's keep living it…"

"Let's keep living it…" She opened her eyes. She felt the flames near her, and saw the demonic glow upon Sweeney's face. Nellie panicked, and did the only thing that came to mind—she pushed him down. They came crashing to the cold stone floor, Nellie screaming bloody murder. "No, Mr. T! Please, don't kill me!"

"Get off of me, damned woman!" Sweeney roared, throwing the baker to the side. His razor had slid away when he was pushed down. As he got up, Nellie dived for it, and grabbed it shakily.

"Please Mr. T, don't kill me! Please, _please!_ I didn't mean to hurt you!" She screamed, gripping the razor so hard, her knuckles turned white. "She gave up on you, just like everybody else! _I didn't, Mr. T!_ I never did! I moved in, I took care of Johanna when Lucy was ill, I worked, and I fought! Mr. T, I hurt too!" Tears started rolling down the baker's cheeks, and her voice cracked, and got lower. "I h-hurt the very same! I prayed for your safety… I..." Nellie's voice stopped. She looked up from the floor, and met Sweeney's eyes.

They were cold, and emotionless. Sweeney looked at the desperate woman, hopelessly clutching his razor as if it was her lifeline. He felt pity, contempt. Although he knew, _just knew_, that he was going to regret ever doing this, he walked over to Mrs. Lovett, and roughly grabbed her by the arm. She flinched terribly, and Sweeney almost felt bad for the woman. "Forget my face." He growled. He threw her back onto the floor.

"Mr. T…" Nellie wept. She still held onto the razor, little cuts forming on her hands. She lifted her head, hoping to see the love of her life, but he was gone. The metal door left ajar, and an eerily cool breeze came through. She looked at the razor in her hands, turning it over. The metal glinted, and she could see the dried blood on it. It was engraved, with a picture of a woman crying. "Mr. T… I could never forget your face…"

* * *

Sweeney ran upstairs to where his barbershop was. He grabbed a few changes of clothes, and stuffed it into a small bag. He rapidly cleared out all the money he had, putting it in his bag. He grabbed his razors, counting only five. "Five... five... where's my… _shit._ Shit. Shit, shit, shit…" Mrs. Lovett. She had the last one. He couldn't go back. He had to run. "Damned woman, useless, stupid bitch." He muttered more profanities, and escaped into the night.

* * *

Mrs. Lovett heard a slow, scraping sound. She turned around wildly, scared shitless. She saw Toby. "Toby, love." She sighed in relief. It was only her Toby. Her precious, innocent Toby. "Toby, you're sure to be the death of me, makin' me run around like a mad woman. Me poor bones aren't wot they used to, you know." She smiled weakly, swiftly hiding the razor into one of the pockets of her dress. She wiped her hands with a chuckle. "Toby… Toby, love. We need to talk." Nellie shakily stood up. 'Dear God, I need to pull myself together…' She walked to Toby, and took him into her arms. She quietly gulped. "What exactly do you know, Toby? About Mr. T?" She looked at her adoptive son; truly fearing what he knew.

"He's the devil, mum! He kills! We must tell the beadle! He needs to be locked away! We must--!" He was cut off by Mrs. Lovett's hand covering his mouth. He looked up at Nellie, questioning in his eyes. He saw tears roll down her ashen cheeks, slowly dripping to his hair. He saw her pull something out. Was that a razor? He heard faint mumbling, sounding like an apology. Suddenly a cool piece of metal was at his throat. Before he could even protest, the immoral instrument had done its wicked deed.

"I'm so sorry, Toby…" Nellie sobbed. She felt his body go limp, and his warm blood stream down her arms. She sobbed, holding the corpse tightly. She let go of the razor, hearing it clatter coldly on the pavement floor. She cradled her beloved son's body. "I'm so sorry… I had to… for Mr. T…" She whimpered quietly.

She sat there for a long time, until Toby was completely cold and her body completely numb. She slowly stood up. Her knees attempted to buckle under her, but she held strong. She dragged Toby's body to the oven, and pushed it in. Her eyes were completely cold as the hot flames of Toby's burning body warmed her face. She grabbed the rest of the bodies and burned those also. As the putrid smell of burning flesh filled the air, she swore she would never let anything get in the way of her happiness.

* * *

_Two Years Later_

* * *

It was a warm sunny day, unlike the one two years ago. Nellie Lovett walked the beach, warm sand seeping through her toes. The crashing of the waves and the cries of the seagulls were heard in the background, along the small whimpers and whinings of her pet, Anouk. Anouk was a 13-year-old girl, an orphan, that Nellie found about to walk into a brothel. Desperate for help, she hired Anouk to clean and tend to the shop that she opened in a town next to the sea. Her dreams of living by the sea weren't as sweet as she thought they would be. Of course, she loved the sand, the surf, the sun, but it just felt _empty_, in some strange way. Well, it was not so strange. She missed her Toby, and mourned practically every day. Anouk was a pleasant girl, very kind and witty, but she still missed Toby. Then there was Sweeney. Her beautiful Sweeney. No one could replace him. Often times, Nellie would suddenly just daydream of where her barber was, right in the middle of things. Her eyes would dull, and her words trail off, and there you go, she was gone. It would take something insignificant, a mindless comment, to remind her of Sweeney or Toby. God, how she wished he was with her.

"Ma'am, where are we going?'' Anouk asked, in her soft voice. She was slowly trailing behind Mrs. Lovett, her dreamy disposition inhibiting her to go faster. She had long curly brown hair, pulled into messy high pigtails, and quite subtle features, nothing distinctive about her. Except her eyes. Anouk's eyes were the color of the sky before the moon came out. They shone with a curiosity that was rare to find these days. Actually if you looked at the pair, they looked like mother and daughter, both with rather pale faces, and sunken eyes. Anouk was carrying a rather heavy basket, filled with many things of different natures. She sighed quietly as she saw her mistress slowly come to a stop. _Not again, ma'am._ She saw Nellie's eyes dull, and saw the parasol in her thin hands slip slightly. _I really wish I knew what she would think about…_ She heaved the basket onto her hip, and scurried to her mistress. "Ma'am, we need to get to the shop, it's getting late." She said, while nudging Nellie's arm slightly.

Nellie gasped loudly, as if she came out of harsh cold waters. She looked around wildly, scared. "What?" She looked to her left, and saw the face of Anouk. She was confused. Where was her Toby? Where was Sweeney? "Dearie, where's Mr. T? And my Toby? Where are they?" She saw the girl's brow furrow in confusion. Who was this girl?

"Missus, I don't know any Toby. Or Mr. T… It's just us." Anouk said quietly, slightly worried for her mistress. She pulled on Nellie's sleeve, and lead her to their shop. "Ma'am, I'm Anouk. Remember? This is our shop; we make pastries." She looked at Nellie, hoping her momentary lapse passed.

"Anouk…" Nellie mumbled, her eyes dull. "Anouk, what time is it?" She walked to her shakily. Mrs. Lovett looked dead tired. Her skin looked ghostly pale, and her eyes even more sunken. Anouk worried over the woman that saved her, fearing she wouldn't be able to return the favor.

"It's time to go to bed, ma'am." She led Mrs. Lovett to her room. Satisfied with her state, Anouk walked out of the older woman's room to put away the things in the basket. "There was a lady and her love, a bitter lady and her love, and oh how foolish she was. The webs she weaved, the webs of lies she made him believe, was the cause of their doom. She was the one to break her heart, the one that caused them to break apart…" She sang quietly, as she washed the counters, preparing for tomorrow's rush of customers. The oak counters were covered with small pieces of dough, and powdered sugar. Wiping her hands on her dress, she hummed and closed the curtains on the shop's window, hoping for a better day tomorrow. Perhaps, if she was lucky, her mistress wouldn't suffer any memories.

_The Very Same Day_

* * *

It was a warm sunny day, unlike that night two years ago. Sweeney's heavy boots thundered against the old wooden floor of the abandoned pie shop, as he brooded over his current situation.

After leaving London, Sweeney sought refuge in a small town 100 kilometers away. He had hidden there until he found out news of a demon barber and a devil's baker hung in Nottinghamshire. After hearing that, he returned to London, hoping he would find Mrs. Lovett, and hopefully kill her and Toby. Oddly, the idea of killing wasn't as alluring as it used to be, in their case. Killing Toby would be easy, and slightly boring, as he felt nothing towards the boy. But the idea of seeing all that crimson pouring out of Mrs. Lovett, that he liked. He looked forward to the feeling of the cool metal pressing against her pale throat, and having that feeling of domination over her. It almost turned him on. But then, the idea of her dying troubled him. It perplexed him, because he wanted her dead. But, she truly didn't deserve to die. She was a smart woman, witty and clever. She never chided Sweeney about killing other men, or tried to discourage him. In fact, at times she seemed to _applaud_ him. She knew that killing Turpin was important to him, and she tried to help him get that vile man into the chair. She also always took care of him, with no money being asked in return. She made him food, albeit not extremely delicious food, but she did do everything for him. It almost made him feel guilty for treating her so badly. But there was that side; that annoying, _girlish_, pitiful side. Her constant dreaming of living at the sea, marrying him, living with friends perfectly. He wondered why she was so smitten of him, it's not as if they had known each other before… before he was taken away.

Maybe they did, but Sweeney was no longer sure of anything. He could no longer remember the face of his dear Lucy, the one he had fallen in love with, not the one he so wrongly killed. And Johanna, his darling and beautiful daughter. Oh, how he wished of meeting his daughter, at least… he used to. The idea of seeing Johanna no longer played in his mind. Lucy and Johanna were a part of Benjamin Barker's life; not Sweeney Todd's. Benjamin Barker was killed, along with Judge Turpin, Beadle Bamford, Lucy Barker, Davy Jones, and all the other people that died in London two years ago. Sweeney Todd no longer had anything to live for. And that thought truly saddened him.

* * *

"Where could she have gone?" Sweeney growled. He had searched the entire building, even the bakehouse, but he found no trace of Mrs. Lovett or Toby. He asked around Fleet Street, but no one had seen anyone in that building in a little under two years, only a widow with red hair leaving a few weeks after the death of Judge Turpin and Beadle Bamford. It was rumored that she saw their murders and went mad. He concluded that something happened to Toby. _Good, the damned boy was too much trouble than he was worth._ But then he wondered whether Mrs. Lovett was alive. The streets of London weren't particularly the most safe place for a woman. But if she was, where did she go? He had no idea where the inane woman would head to. As he paced the shop's floor, the thought hit him. _Of course._ He felt almost stupid for not thinking of it earlier. _The sea._ She would've immediately jumped at the chance of moving there with her 'precious' Toby. The closest town that was by the sea was 25 kilometers away. A three day trip; given if he rested. So as the sun set on 187 Fleet Street, Sweeney finally found something to live for.

To find Mrs. Lovett and kill her.


	2. Chapter 2

**In The Fire**

_The Next Day_

"_Forget my face."_

Mrs. Lovett woke with a start. She looked around at the room, slightly disoriented at her situation. She took in the room, the warm coverlet on her, making her feel snug and comfortable. However, her still tied corset constricted her airway, making her feel distressed and frantic. Throwing off the coverlet, she quickly ripped off all her clothing in desperation. She pulled out the pins in her hair, and shook her head, attempting to relieve the throbbing in her head she felt torturing her. She pulled on an old nightgown she had kept from her newlywed years, one that comforted her whenever she wanted to cry. She lamely attempted to clean the mess of clothes she made; but she felt oddly lifeless.

She walked to the mirror she had hanging on the wall, studying her appearance. She _did_ look dead. She slowly reached up to her face, touching it softly, not truly believing what she saw.

Her once bright, chocolate brown eyes looked dull and almost charcoal black. Her beautiful auburn curls that were once a source of her pride, were now limp, and dark. Her claret lips stayed the same, but seemed to look strained whenever she would smile. The dark features of her face washed out her already pallid skin. She looked like a ghost, a tormented widow, stuck roaming the earth, searching the world for some peace. The nightgown did not help either; it draped over her thin shoulders like a curtain, not even fitting her as it used to. She was still beautiful, and quite 'voluptuous', as her former husband used to call her; but her troubles and stress had finally caught up to her.

As she looked at the reflection in the mirror, Anouk knocked quietly on the wooden door. "Ma'am… are you…?" As she opened the door to her mistress' room, she gasped. She saw tears rolling down Mrs. Lovett's face. "Ma'am? Are you all right…? I mean, quite obviously you're not, but…" She ran to Nellie's side, and sat her on the bed. "Ma'am, I need you to tell me what's wrong! Should I close shop for today?"

As Anouk fretted over the baker, all that ran through the woman's mind was Sweeney. '_What would he think of me now?'_ She wanted to kill herself. '_He would find me even uglier… disgusting.' _

She did not see anything remotely pretty about her, not pretty as Lucy. Her brown curls did not compare to Lucy's long, sweeping, blonde hair. Her petite, curvy form was not graceful, slender, or tall like Lucy. Her ordinary, brown eyes did not compare to Lucy's glimmering, sea green eyes. Her pale skin and shadows under her eyes were shameful in contrast to Lucy's creamy skin, and rosy cheeks. No, she would never compare to Lucy. Even in death, Lucy still won him. _I'm so pathetic… _

"Ma'am!" Anouk said. She had been calling to Mrs. Lovett, for a few minutes, wondering about the shop. But she didn't notice the sudden look of sadness that dawn upon the baker. "Ma'am, I need to know if you want me to—"

"Do whatever you please. I don't care." Nellie said monotonously. She turned to face Anouk. "Just… Leave me alone." She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked at Anouk with such a pain-filled gaze, that she couldn't help but just leave the baker alone.

"Ma'am… I may not be whomever you're missing; but remember… you can talk to me." The young girl whispered as quietly closed the door. Behind the door, she heard shuffling and thuds. Anouk merely sighed as she turned the sign from the bright and cheerful 'open' to a slightly less cheerful, 'closed' sign. "She won't mind if I go out to market…" She supposed. And on that note, she put on a threadbare shawl, grabbed her small change purse, and left quietly. _Maybe I'll find something to cheer her up…_

Mrs. Lovett tore her room apart, searching for it. She had to find it… she just _had_ to. It was the last thing she had left of him.

Ripping open a velvet pouch, she found it. Sweeney's razor. It still gleamed beautifully, although specks of blood were still on it. She clutched the tool closely to her chest, and breathed in deeply. She could almost feel the warmth of Sweeney's from when he had held it last. She hoped that she one day Sweeney would come back, and they could be happy together. She crawled into her bed, still clutching the razor, using the covers as a shield from the harsh reality of the world.

"_Mr. T, I hurt too!"_

Sweeney woke up with a start. He looked around, vaguely aware of his surroundings. He was lying on a warm bed, with a fireplace crackling merrily to his left. "Where… am I?" He mumbled groggily. He slowly sat up, pushing the warm covers off him reluctantly. As he tried to clear his vision, he heard a door open.

"Is everything okay in here?" A girl called out. She was currently carrying a small tray with a cup of tea and two slices of toast with butter. She walked slowly, careful not to spill anything. She walked to Sweeney, and put the tray down next to him. As she got closer, Sweeney finally got a good look at her. She looked rather young, 17, and had her long dark hair in a braid. Her eyes were a lively brown, and she was rather petite. Those eyes reminded him of somebody… "Hello? Anybody there?" The girl waved her hand in front of the barber's face, wondering what was wrong with the man.

"What?" Sweeney snapped, hating the fact that he was being interrupted in his thoughts. He saw the girl flinch, in an all-too-familiar manner. Guiltily, Sweeney cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, that was… rude of me," he said in a softer, kinder tone. He studied the girl's facial expressions, and almost sighed in relief when he saw the girl's face relax. He had felt guilty, realizing that the girl hadn't done anything to deserve any cruel behavior from him. She had only treated him with kindness, not asking anything in return. Like someone else he knew…

"'Tis fine, ya know. I'm used to it." She said blithely, waving her hand dismissively. She walked to an armchair near the fireplace, and smoothed out her skirt. "You should eat your food. Give you some energy. Found you on the brink of death, I did." She sat down and grinned at Sweeney. "Can't be having someone die on my doorstep, now can I? People'll talk. Say nasty things." She sighed. "Can't have that. Nope… Not at all." The girl looked into the fire, a distant look on her face. The flames cast a dark shadow on her features, giving her a severe look.

Sweeney fleetingly wondered about the girl, but then something more important crossed his mind. _I'm hungry… _He looked to his side, at the food on the tray. The barber hungrily stuffed a slice of toast down his throat. As he ate, the girl snapped out of her reverie.

She watched him hungrily eat, wondering where the strange man came from. Sweeney sighed in relief, glad that the small meal satiated his hunger. "Thank you, miss…" The man stopped in mid-sentence. He didn't even know that kind woman's name.

"Lara. But please, call me Natalie. And your name, if you'd please?" Natalie replied placidly. She fixated her brown eyes on Sweeney's charcoal ones in interest.

Natalie's brash action slightly unnerved Sweeney. "I am…"

Sweeney hesitated. What was he doing? Trusting some random woman stupidly, as if he was in the position to do something so foolish. He trusted Toby, and looked where _that _got him. Well, _he _didn't trust that idiot Toby. It was Mrs. Lovett, that illogical and absentminded woman, with her uncontrollable sympathy for small children. _She _had been the one that pleaded for his mercy, begged that he wouldn't kill the brat. Wait, why did he even _care_ about Mrs. Lovett? Snapping out of his thoughts, "Sweeney Todd." he finished his statement.

"Pleasure to meet'cha, Mr. Todd." Natalie beamed. She stood up and picked up Sweeney's empty tray. "Please, rest as much as you need. I'll be back to check on you." She flashed him a congenial smile, and walked out the room.

As she left, Sweeney felt an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt a bitter taste in the back of his throat, and every breath he took was oddly cold. He closed his eyes, and hid under the covers of the bed, just hoping he could hide away from all the conflicting emotions he felt.

"_We could have a life, us two," Mrs. Lovett said quietly to Sweeney. "Maybe not like you remember. Maybe not like I dreamed. But we could get by." She said, looking at Sweeney's turned back. Oh, how she wished he would understand how they were meant to be. She looked at her love, wondering what he saw outside that window. Maybe he saw the future, after the bloody judge was killed. Maybe, after the revenge thing blew over, they could be married at the sea. Maybe…_

"_We could have a life, us two," Sweeney heard Mrs. Lovett say. "Maybe not like you remember. Maybe not like I dreamed. But we could get by." He could hear her voice pleading, begging for a chance. He heard the sadness in her voice, that undeniable sadness that made him sick. As he looked out the window, he contemplated the idea of spending his life with Mrs. Lovett. Perhaps he wouldn't mind, seeing as he nothing to pay her, or work for to stay there. He was guaranteed a roof over his head with her. But god, how desperate she was. She was lonely, just like him; desperate for the love and attention they had been denied for so long. Knowing that, Sweeney Todd felt just a little less lonely._


	3. Chapter 3

**In the Fire**

As Anouk walked the cobblestone streets of Brighton, she wondered idly what was wrong with the baker. She wasn't ever sure of Mrs. Lovett's state of being, seeing as the woman always kept to herself. All she knew was that when they first met, Mrs. Lovett was in very healthy condition, very lively, albeit a little jumpy, as if someone was about to come and take her away. She also noticed she would walk around with a sliver razor in her skirt pocket, as if it was a charm. Another peculiar thing that she observed was that she would cry at night for someone named Toby. She assumed that Toby might have been a child she lost to illness, because she never seemed to speak of him in a longing way. The person that she also mourned for was a Mr. Todd; a man she learned that she had fallen in love with. Anouk _did_ assume that this man was still alive, for she never saw Mrs. Lovett look at another man, as perhaps a widow or someone that had moved on would do. She would eagerly look at every man that would walk into their shop, and after she saw that they were not the elusive Mr. Todd, she would merely sigh, and ask what their order was.

Anouk sighed; annoyed with herself with the fact that she could not really piece anything together when it came to Mrs. Lovett's background. She looked at the various stalls, seeing them, but not really paying them attention. Most of them advertised bogus cures for phony diseases. Others presented supposedly rare and ancient artifacts for obscenely outrageous prices. She merely walked past all of these stalls, distressed by the lengths people would go to for money. She knew how it felt to be so desperate, so needy, so pitiful. However, she was fortunate enough to find someone that actually cared for her, and took her in. She was eternally grateful to Mrs. Lovett, which is why she felt like she had to help her savior.

As she walked, someone roughly grabbed Anouk's arm. She wildly turned her head, hair whipping her face. The man that grabbed her arm was Monsieur Cromwell, a cold and ruthless man that always seemed to go to Mrs. Lovett's, even though he would hardly ever buy something. Anouk did not like the man, because she saw the lecherous look he gave to Mrs. Lovett when he thought no one was looking. It disgusted her, not because of the fact of a man finding her mistress attractive, something she would agree with also, but because she could not believe the perverse look in the man's eye. Looking at the immoral man, Anouk flashed Cromwell a fake smile. "Oh, Monsieur Cromwell, how lovely it is to meet you!" She gushed, inwardly cringing at the contact between the two.

Cromwell smiled wickedly, his dark, tobacco stained teeth showing. "A young lady like you should not be wandering the streets alone! Where is your mistress, Mrs. Lovett?" He asked. He still had not loosened his grip on Anouk's arm, and his dark eyes seemed to flash eerily.

"Ma'am isn't feeling well, so I am out looking for something to dispel her ailment." Anouk said cheerfully, as she attempted to politely wrench herself from Cromwell's grip. She felt very vulnerable, but of course, she would not show it. "It is getting rather late," She said, although it was only a little after noon. "I really need to get back." She felt the man's grip loosen, and inwardly she sighed with relief. The man's hands felt cold and icy to Anouk, making her break out in goose bumps.

"Please send my best wishes to Mrs. Lovett, all right, child?" Cromwell said, as he let go of Anouk. She almost ran away from the man, but resisted the temptation, as Mrs. Lovett taught her better than that.

Anouk nodded as she bid her farewells to the man, and hurried to the pie shop. She was slightly disappointed that she did not find anything to cheer up Mrs. Lovett, but she was relieved that she was able to leave the potentially dangerous situation.  
As she headed back to the pie shop, something caught her eye from a pile of soot near an alley. It gleamed from the sunlight, which had just barely started to show. She picked up the odd instrument, and held it in her hands. She studied it, and came to realize it was a razor. Oddly enough, it looked similar to the one Mrs. Lovett carried around with her. She looked around, wondering if anyone was looking at her.

Satisfied with her surroundings, Anouk hid the razor in the skirt of her pocket and ran off.

--

As Natalie walked the cobblestone streets of Brighton, she wondered about the odd man that appeared upon her doorstep. Natalie found him late at night, on the corner of her home. It seemed that he had been walking for a very long time, from the way he was shaking slightly at his knees. He was a very odd-looking man, dressed in dull clothing, but the unusual white stripe in his hair gleamed in the moonlight. At first, she was somewhat weary of helping the man, as she did not know if he was someone that could hurt her. However, her heart was not made of stone, so she led him to her guest room. She was very careful and locked the door, so if he woke up he could not harm her at all.

The next day, when she went to check upon the man, she discovered him to be awake and trying to get out of the bed. _Good thing I locked the door…_ She had thought. She carried a tray of food for the man, nothing particularly plentiful, seeing as she had hardly anything to spare. The man was rather odd, he seemed to have a wandering mind, and somewhat unable to really focus. However, when she tried to get the man's attention, he yelled at her. She flinched out of fear; although something as insignificant as someone snapping at her should not have caused that reaction out of Natalie. _I'm used to it. I'm stronger than that!_ She mentally scolded herself. She quickly proceeded to learn the man's name after he had devoured the small meal. His name was Sweeney Todd. She wondered whether Mr. Todd was a barber, as she knew 'Sweeney' was a nickname for a barber.

Natalie sighed, annoyed with herself at the fact that she was letting some man she did not even know preoccupy all her thoughts. She continued walking around, not sure for what she was looking for. She saw a stand selling somewhat rotten fruit for outrageous prices. She glared, knowing the owner of the stand. Her name was Elizabeth Parker, a condescending and bitter woman. Elizabeth hated Natalie for reasons that she did not know, but Natalie hated her for constantly taking advantage of the people around her, and not caring about who she hurt. She bit back the growl that threatened to escape her throat, and walked to the stand. "Morning, _Lizzie_." She greeted, emphasizing the hated nickname of the woman. She saw the grocer's daughter grimace at the sight of Natalie.

"Natalie. Morning." Elizabeth greeted curtly.

Natalie _tsk'_ed at Elizabeth. "Now, Lizzie, is that how you greet a prospective customer? I thought you knew better!" She flashed a sardonic smile as she picked up a battered apple. "And for the scandalous price you're selling this…"

"What do you mean? That's perfectly fine!" The woman practically screeched. She snatched the apple from Natalie's hand, and placed it back on the rickety stand. "If you're not buying, get out!" She fanned away Natalie with a tattered rag, as if she was a pest.

Natalie merely shrugged, and turned away. "If that's how you treat customers…" She briskly walked away, returning home empty-handed. _Nitwit._ She angrily thought.

As she turned the corner to her house, she spotted a girl crouched near a pile of soot from a chimney sweep. Curious, Natalie hid behind some stone stairs. As she peeked, she saw the girl pick up something shiny. It gleamed brightly, so she could not tell what it was. She watched as the girl turned it over in her hands. Then the girl looked around nervously. Satisfied, the girl shoved the shiny thing into her pocket, and ran off. Naturally, after the girl ran away, Natalie went to the pile of soot also. She saw a small knapsack at the bottom of the pile, and wondered how the girl did not notice it. _Perhaps she only wanted the shiny thing… _Natalie mused to herself. Remembering that this was where she found Sweeney Todd, she grabbed the bag and ran home, having a very good felling that it was the barber's.

--

"_It's Todd, now. Sweeney Todd." Sweeney growled to Mrs. Lovett. "And he will have 'is revenge." Mrs. Lovett looked at the man in disbelief. She did not truly believe that this man was Benjamin Barker. She remembered him clearly, even though it had been 15 years since she last saw him. He had been such an optimistic and love sick man. She remembered secretly loathing Lucy Barker, for stealing away the man she had her eyes set on. However, whenever Nellie would see Benjamin's beaming face, a little bit of the disgusting monster inside of her would die away. But as she gazed upon the face of Sweeney Todd, she wondered only one thing. How did the man she had loved so much change so drastically? _

_--_

"_It's Todd, now. Sweeney Todd." Sweeney corrected Mrs. Lovett. "And he will have 'is revenge." He no longer was that naïve man from so long ago. He had nothing to live for. Only to kill Judge Turpin. He looked at Mrs. Lovett, and was secretly disgusted with her appearance. They had known each other, in those happier times. She used to be beautiful, graceful, curvy, cheeks full and rosy, her wide eyes full of excitement and curiosity. However, the woman that stood before him was not Eleanor Thomas. This woman was wasting away. She was still quite curvy, but he noticed her sunken cheeks. He also noticed the way the bones stuck out on her neck painfully. And last, but not least, her eyes. Her bright sienna eyes were now chocolate, and looked listless. What had happened to the woman that made her change so drastically?_


End file.
